There was no pain, nor any sudden enlightennt; the world before him was as if a pane of glass had been removed, instantly becoming clear — the most apt taphor Jack could think of.
The slls in the air, the sounds from the street outside, every corner of the room — with focused attention, he could discern, hear, and observe them all.
Jack picked up the cool water on the table and took a sip, frowning slightly. Hannah's tap had a high-end water purifier, and the water was boiled, but his sense of taste told him the filter needed replacing.
This reminded Jack of a movie he'd seen in his past life, where the protagonist swallowed a small pill called NZT48, which greatly enhanced his senses and intelligence, making him seemingly omnipotent — very similar to his current state.
Excitedly, he ran up to the attic, dug out a calculus problem that had troubled him for a long ti from his old university textbook, and started scribbling. Ten minutes later, Jack threw down his pen, dejectedly giving up.
Okay, what I don't know, I still don't know. Increased ntal strength doesn't equate to increased intelligence. It seems I'll never be able to climb this mountain of mathematics in my lifeti without actually understanding and practicing.
....
After his three-day administrative leave, Jack returned to the police station, continuing his daily routine of clocking in and out, practicing shooting after work, and casually observing Nolan and Lucy's gossip. Clearly, their secret relationship couldn't last.
Finally, one night a month later, Jack, dragged out for drinks, witnessed their official breakup with a wry smile.
"If it doesn't work out, just separate temporarily. After your rookie period, one of you can apply for a transfer to another precinct, right?" Unable to bear their pretentious antics any longer, Jack suggested.
Then, under their idiotic stares, he shrugged: "Never mind, let's drink."
After finishing a bottle of Budweiser, Jack was about to get up to ask the waiter for a few more when he suddenly heard urgent alarms coming from the shop across the street, followed by three guys dressed as zombies rushing out.
"Damn it, LAPD, stop! Don't move!" Jack charged out of the bar, drawing his Glock, followed closely by Nolan and Lucy.
The three robbers, caught off guard by the police, fled in terror. Before they'd gone 200 ters, two were tackled by Nolan and Lucy. Seeing the leader, carrying the money bag, escape into the subway entrance, Jack turned back, gave him a shout, and gave chase. He couldn't let this opportunity for experience slip by.
Just then, a subway train pulled into the station, and the panicked robber dove inside. Jack squeezed into the carriage just as the doors closed, shouting "LAPD" to identify himself as he continued the pursuit.
Although the carriage wasn't crowded, the space was cramped. Fearing injury to bystanders, and with the robber unard, Jack holstered his Glock, preparing to subdue him unard.
After a few more carriages, the robber finally collapsed from exhaustion, his legs giving way, and the money bag he was carrying flew a considerable distance, landing near the feet of a thin, white man near the train door.
Jack stepped forward, stomped on the robber's tailbone, and pulled out handcuffs to cuff him. Just as he pulled the man up, the train dinged, indicating it had arrived at the station.
Looking up again, the money bag and the white man were gone.
"I can't imagine anyone stupid enough to steal from a policeman, afraid of going to jail?"
The next day at work, Jack discussed the incident with Angela, completely baffled. Angela, however, seed unfazed.
"Soone foolish or desperate, I guess? The economy's been bad these past few years; I heard Manhattan Beach is practically overrun by holess people."
Jack scoffed. Since his ntal strength broke through 20, his observation skills had greatly improved. Although it was just a fleeting glimpse, the white man who seed to have taken the bag of money didn't look like a destitute holess person. Last night, after taking the robber to the police station, he submitted the relevant information to the detective team. With the subway surveillance footage, they should be able to find him soon.
Sure enough, after patrolling with Angela for only a few rounds that morning and issuing just one ticket, the command center sent over the address of the suspect who stole the stolen goods.
The bag of money represented a day's revenue for the shop; the largest denominations were no more than $5, and the entire bag contained less than $2,000. The detective team naturally didn't want to go on the mission themselves, and since Jack had already filed the report, they would give him that much face.
He had initially expected a pleasant surprise — catching three petty thieves while having drinks that night, a windfall of experience — but then crucial evidence was stolen right under his nose, resulting in him being ridiculed by Commander Gray in front of everyone at the briefing the next morning.
While this kind of ridicule was a daily occurrence for the three rookies, and mostly well-intentioned, the one who had been ridiculed the most before was the veteran rookie Nolan. Didn't this LAPD rookie have any pride?
Following the address sent by the command center, Jack parked his car in front of a white two-story building. He frowned slightly as he looked at a children's bicycle leaning against the wall in the porch.
Angela gestured for Jack to follow behind and provide cover. She walked up the steps, one hand on her holster, and pounded on the door with the other: "LAPD, open the door."
A thin, white man erged from the inner room, raising his hands and looking at the door with so fear.
Angela continued to shout, "Sir, I see you! Don't force to break down the door!"
The thin man hurriedly opened the door: "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, very sorry."
Angela entered the house first, pulled out her pistol and pointed it at him: "Please put your hands up."
Jack, who followed closely behind, dodged Angela's gun and circled behind the thin man, ordering, "Hands behind your head, fingers interlaced."
The thin man cooperated readily, putting his hands behind his head and allowing Jack to search his entire body.
Finding no weapon, Jack shook his head at Angela, who then holstered her gun.
"Sir, where is the money you took?" Rarely encountering such a cooperative suspect, Jack didn't resort to violence, but stood beside him and asked.
"I swear, I want to return it. The money... I... uh..." The thin man stamred, leading the two into the living room, where a bag full of loose change lay on the table.
"Did you spend any of the cash?" Angela pressed sternly. Jack took the bag and examined it; yes, it was loose bills from the shop.
"I bought so groceries, paid the water bill — we can't live without water. I'm sorry, I'll definitely pay it back," the thin man stamred, tears glistening in his eyes.
"Life has been so tough lately. My wife passed away last year, and I recently lost my job."
"I've always been a law-abiding citizen and have never even had an illegal parking ticket."
Jack, looking slightly exasperated, took out handcuffs, preparing to cuff the man. The anger he had built up from the man's petty theft had vanished without a trace. It was clear that this was soone driven to desperation by life.
Suddenly, a clear, childlike voice ca from the stairwell: "Daddy?"
Turning around, he saw a five- or six-year-old boy standing there timidly, looking at everyone with a blank expression.
The thin man hesitated for a few seconds, then hurriedly called out, "Jacob, go back to your room."
Jack quietly hung the handcuffs back on his waist, interrupting him, and gestured, "It's okay, let him co here."
At the man's call, the little boy rushed into his arms.
The man looked helplessly at Jack: "What will happen to my son?"
Angela said from the side, "Child protective services will co to take your son away. Do you have any relatives in this city? You can notify them to co and pick him up later."
"Uh, yes, my wife's sister." The man's eyes were filled with panic and helplessness.
"Then provide her contact information. We will enter it into the system to ensure that child protective services can contact her in ti."
"But now you need to cooperate with the police. Please co with . The only thing I can do now is to prevent your son from seeing you in handcuffs."
Jack gestured for the man to follow him.
"Please don't do this, please." The man pleaded desperately.
"I'm sorry, you have to say goodbye to your son." Angela put her hands on her hips, her tone serious.
Looking at the father and son hugging and crying, Jack felt a pang of guilt. However, he was just a rookie patrolman. If he were a detective, perhaps he would...
He led the man out of the house. Behind them ca the heart-wrenching cries of a little boy. Angela hugged the little boy and gently comforted him. The man outside was already sobbing uncontrollably, filled with remorse.
"What have I done? I've ruined everything."
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